


i'll tell you my sins

by orangesofduscae



Series: jamesandkeith week 2018 [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, Masturbation, Pining, Pre-Relationship, pre-kerberos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-11
Updated: 2018-09-11
Packaged: 2019-07-11 02:42:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15962984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orangesofduscae/pseuds/orangesofduscae
Summary: The room echoes with the rush of water and his breathing, and James swears he hears a husky laugh in his ear, feels the puff of warm breath on his cheek.So needy, it says,so hungry for it. You wanna be full, huh?“Yeah,” he breathes, voice hitching. He moves his other hand further between his legs, still stroking himself with the other, and lets his fingers curl around his sack. “Yeah, please.”





	i'll tell you my sins

**Author's Note:**

> written for [jamesandkeith](http://jamesandkeith.tumblr.com) week day 2: **fantasies**

There are only a couple other guys in the locker room when James gets there. He gives them a friendly nod as he moves to his locker to start undressing, and by the time he’s pulled his shirt off and started on his belt, they’re gone. He’s alone. 

He’s got about an hour before the next wave of cadets come to use the showers. 

He tosses his things in his locker and secures it before heading to the actual showers. His toes curl over the wet tile as he picks a shower and turns on the hot water. It comes out in a burst of cold, and he holds his fingers under the spray, waiting for it to heat up. 

A long, deep sigh escapes him when it’s finally hot enough to stand under. The heat works into his muscles, and he tilts his head back, letting the water slick his hair back from his face. He stands just like that for several breaths, just enjoying the time to himself. 

Eyes closed, he runs a hand through his hair, dragging it down his neck and over his chest in a slow, deliberate movement. The caress makes him shiver, and he bites his lip as his hand trails lower and lower. 

In his mind, he pictures another hand, knuckles bruised and bloody as the fingers grip at his skin. The heat of the water turns into the heat of a body pressed against him, pushing him back until he hits the wall of the shower. A gasp leaves him, torn from him as those phantom hands run fire along his skin, the pads of the fingers rough with callouses. 

He whimpers when a hand closes around his cock hanging heavy and hard between his legs, and he drags slow and rough the way he thinks—the way he  _knows—_ it would be. A thumb teasing the head on the upstroke, then down in a long, smooth motion. It draws a whine out of him, and his head hits the wall as he drops it. 

The room echoes with the rush of water and his breathing, and he swears he hears a husky laugh in his ear, feels the puff of warm breath on his cheek.  _So needy,_ it says,  _so hungry for it. You wanna be full, huh?_

 _“Yeah,”_ he breathes, voice hitching. He moves his other hand further between his legs, still stroking himself with the other, and lets his fingers curl around his sack. “ _Yeah, please.”_

There’s another laugh in his ear, and he moans as a stream of water curls around his ear and down his neck, like a hot tongue licking over him, leaving soft kisses and maybe even a hickey or two.  _So needy,_ it teases. 

“ _Need you_ ,” he begs, and the hand on his cock twists  _just right_ and pulls a moan from him. “ _Want you, please. Please, please, please_.” 

His hand dips further, and he keens when he pushes a finger into himself, then a second. It’s hot and tight and he pants into the humid air of the room, thick with steam, skin slick with water that he pretends is sweat between bodies. His toes curl and soft sounds keep leaving him no matter how hard he bites his lip feeling plump and tender and kissed into oblivion. 

He imagines kissing lips always curled into a scowl, how they’d soften against his and open him up and devour him with the same fire and passion held within the body they’re connected to. Sharp, deep eyes would rake over him with hunger and desire, and he’d offer himself up to be consumed by a pure force of nature, a raging storm contained in a single being—

“ _Keith!_ ” He cries out as he comes, voice echoing on the tile, fingers pumping in and out of him as his other hand drags his orgasm out of his cock in slowing strokes. His legs go weak and he slumps against the wall, sliding to the ground and gasping for breath. 

He pulls his hands away from his body, letting them rest in his lap, and he watches in a daze as the cooling water from the shower washes away the evidence of his shame and weakness. His body feels light and pleasantly achy, and he lets his head rest against the wall. 

Eventually, the water temperature becomes uncomfortable, and he pushes himself up to turn in off. He stands there, drip-drying, head bowed. He pushes the pooled water toward the drain, watching it run in rivulets over the tile. 

“Fuck,” he breathes out, and that about sums it all up. 

He leaves the showers and goes to his locker to redress. His face is burning and he hopes it’s not as visible as it feels, giving away his secrets against his will. He tugs his shirt on and steps into his pants and lets out a long sigh. 

When he turns from his locker, he jumps as he comes face to face with steel-violet eyes framed by dark hair, and a mouth set in a perpetual scowl. A fine eyebrow raises, and Keith drops his shirt into his own locker. 

James stammers and stutters, searching for something,  _anything,_ to say, but comes up with nothing. His eyes trail over Keith’s chest, caught on his leanness and the quiet strength held in his limbs. 

“You okay, Griffin?” Keith asks, snapping James’s attention to his lips again. 

James shakes his head and forces a huff out, turning on his heel. “Fine, Keith,” he grouses, voice rough, and he cringes internally.  _Please don’t wonder why._ “Just leaving. Enjoy your shower.” 

“Right,” Keith drawls, holding out the vowel, and James pretends it doesn’t send shivers up his back as he leaves. 

_Fuck._

**Author's Note:**

> i never want to write smut again orz
> 
> twitter @firaga_master


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